CHAPTER XII.
SCHILLER’S MARRIAGE.
The two great intellects, whose genius shed such rays of light over Weimar, and over all Germany, neither knew nor loved each other. These two heroes of poetry still kept at a distance from each other, and yet there was a wondrous uniformity in their inner life, although their outward existence was so different. Goethe, the recognized poet, the man of rank, who had never known want or care: Schiller, still struggling, creating much that was great and beautiful, but aspiring to, and foreseeing with prophetic mind, a future of greater and more brilliant success—Schiller, the man of humble standing, who was still wrestling with want and care. His anxiety and poverty were not destined to be relieved by the appointment which Schiller received in the year 1789, as Professor of History at the University of Jena, for—no salary was attached to this professorship!
“A Mr. Frederick Schiller,” wrote (not the poet, but) the Minister Goethe—a report forwarded to the Duke Charles August at that time—“a Mr. Frederick Schiller, who has made himself known to the world by his History of the Netherlands, is disposed to take up his abode at the University of Jena. The possibility of this acquisition is all the more worthy of consideration from the fact that it could be had gratis.”
Gratis! The Dukes of Weimar, Meiningen, Altenburg, and Gotha, the patrons of the University of Jena, could offer nothing but a professorship without salary to the poet of “Don Carlos,” of “Fiesco,” of “Louise Müllerin,” and of “The Robbers”—to the poet of so many glorious songs, to the author of “The History of the Netherlands!” They had but one title, but one appointment, to bestow upon the man to honor whom was to honor themselves, and this appointment was made to save expense!
Schiller accepted this professorship with the nobility of mind of the poet whose soul aspired rather to honor and renown than to pecuniary reward, and who had, for those who profited by his labors while withholding all compensation, nothing but a contemptuous shrug of the shoulders and a proud smile. Schiller’s friends were, however, by no means satisfied with this appointment; his practical friend Körner called his attention to the fact, that the necessities of life were also worthy of some consideration, advising him to inform the minister of state that the addition of a salary to his title of professor was both desirable and very necessary. But Schiller was too proud to solicit as a favor what had not been accorded from a sense of duty. He would not beg bread for the professor, hoping that the poet would be able to support him. He had been accustomed to study close economy, and to struggle with want; care had been his inseparable companion throughout his entire life. The poet had ever looked up to heaven in blissful enthusiasm, rejoicing in the glory of God, and had been “with Him” while the world was being divided among those who understood looking after their pecuniary interests better than the poet. His heart was rich, and his wants were few. He did not desire wealth, and had refused the rich lady tendered him in marriage by his friend Körner. His loving heart should alone be his guide in the selection of a wife.
His loving heart! Had not Schiller a Charlotte, as well as Goethe? The year 1789 had been an eventful one in Goethe’s heart’s history, and had effected a final separation between Goethe and his Charlotte: the same year was also destined to be an important one in Schiller’s heart’s history, and to bring about a crisis in his relations to his Charlotte.
The experience of the two women at this period was of a similar nature. Charlotte von Kalb had often entreated Schiller to pay her a visit, but in vain. He had invariably excused himself with the plea that the duties of his professorship in Jena were of such a nature that it was impossible to leave there even for a single day.
At last Charlotte despatched a messenger to Jena with this laconic letter: “If you do not come to me in Weimar, I will go to you in Jena. Answer.” And Schiller’s answer was—“I am coming!”